


still

by after_me_flood



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: 2 evenings of listening to ambient playlists on youtube this poopfic was born, Gen, M/M, Tears, hurt/comfort if you will, slight angst, we only do happy endings here dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_me_flood/pseuds/after_me_flood
Summary: 'i'm back in korea now’  Jooheon had typed, teeth nearly tearing his bottom lip apart. He’d hit send.The answer had come a few minutes later. ‘visiting?’‘no.’ he’d sent, and the fact that the answer hadn’t been ‘who is this?’  had made thinking so much harder.





	still

”Tea?” Minhyuk offered, standing behind the kitchen counter, the cupboard above his head already open and 3 colorful boxes in his hands.

“Okay.” Jooheon said, hesitant. He looked around. The kitchen was a part of the living room, tucked into the corner to separate the cozy place. One of the doors behind him probably led to the bedroom (what did that look like now?) and on the wall, there was art - sunflowers. He recognized Minhyuk’s small scribbly signature in the corner of the biggest painting.

“Green?” Minhyuk asked, generously filling the electric kettle with water.

”Yeah.” Jooheon mumbled, looking at his socked feet now. It was just tea. They had had tea often, so it was certainly not that hard to forget. Still, it tugged at something in him.

He walked to the couch and sat down on one end, and a moment later Minhyuk came to sit at the opposite one.

That was very different.

Jooheon wanted to run, but whether towards him, or away, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, he crossed his legs and faced him.

 

 .......

 

 

 _'i'm back in korea now’_   Jooheon had typed, teeth nearly tearing his bottom lip apart. He’d hit send.

The answer had come a few minutes later. ‘ _visiting?’_

 _‘no._ ’ he’d sent, and the fact that the answer hadn’t been  _‘who is this?’_   had made thinking so much harder.  _‘for good.’ ,_ he’d added then.

And that was supposed to be it.

Just a quick announcement, so that Minhyuk wouldn’t be too surprised to maybe run into him on the street. A heads up.

It had actually been  _it_  for an hour, an hour where Jooheon had paced around the room - Changkyun’s and Hyungwon’s living room, because this was where he slept now until he could find something for himself - and just when he’d finally almost made peace with the fact that this was  _it_ , his phone had made the message sound again, loud enough for him to startle.

 

...

 

They’d met at the park, an unfamiliar place that had apparently opened just 2 months ago. They’d said hi. They’d stood there for a while, two pairs of wary eyes peeking out from behind the thick scarves, children screaming somewhere in the distance. It had stopped snowing just that morning.

After landing, Jooheon had visited and hugged his parents. Later, he’d hugged Chankgkyun and Hyungwon, even Hoseok.

In the park with Minhyuk, his hands had first uselessly hung at his sides, and then he’d stuffed them deep, deep into the pockets of his coat. Minhyuk hadn’t mentioned it, just set out to walk, and Jooheon had followed him (he’d always followed him), snow crunching under his boots. He didn’t know what to do, what was allowed.

2 years.

“So I guess you’ve seen Infinity War sooner than us here?” Minhyuk had said casually, because Minhyuk had always been good at knowing just what to say to not make things seem so bad, and from there Jooheon had been saved, because rambling about The Avengers or American pop culture wasn’t the hard part here.

They’d walked and he’d talked, looking mostly forward and around and just determinedly not at Minhyuk walking beside him.

They’d walked and he’d rambled about useless things and Minhyuk had let him, seldom talking himself, until they’d suddenly stopped before a red brick building of an apartment complex and Minhyuk had announced that this was where he lived now.

Right, their old room had had new habitants for a while now. This was the apartment Minhyuk had sent him pictures of nearly 2 years ago, when the decision that he’d stay in America for much longer than expected came.

Indefinitely, that was what ‘much longer’ meant back then.

 

 .......

 

Sitting on the couch that still faintly smelled like new furniture, Jooheon had the opportunity to look at him properly. Minhyuk’s hair was a little bit longer and his skin was maybe a little bit tanner from what he’d remembered, his face rosy from the cold weather, but… that was it.

Everything else was exactly the same.

Jooheon had expected a new person. He had hoped for him to be different person. Someone else, so that things would be easy, or just easier than too hard. He hadn’t expected to come home (home?) and for this Minhyuk to resemble the one that he once got to call his quite so closely.

He still blinked so endearingly funny, one eye after the other, and if Jooheon wasn’t so hell-bent on not making this worse than it had to be, he’d maybe tell himself that Minhyuk was still looking at him the same.

2 goddamn years. That simply wasn’t true.

“So, the person… that you... who you have now...” he mumbled in an attempt to get himself out of it by starting some kind of conversation and Minhyuk was torturously patient, waiting for him to piece it together. ”A guy or a girl?” it tumbled out of him, his face too hot for his own liking. Of course he’d ask just about the worst thing he could.

Minhyuk sat on his end of the couch, his side slumped against the back of it to face him, legs folded under him. He looked at Jooheon for a moment and then somewhere over his head, like one would while chasing a memory, face blank. He seemed to think about it. “A boy.” he said softly, after what surely would have been an eternity weren’t it for the 4 dull ticks of the clock somewhere in the background that registered in Jooheon’s brain while he waited for an answer.

Of course he didn’t want to tell him. He was overstepping, the fact that he was even here, in this apartment was more than he deserved. Why was he even here again? To catch up on things? Things that had nothing to do with him anymore? He wasn’t sure if they were even still friends. Probably not. Minhyuk had just always been too friendly for his own good.

And of course there was someone. Minhyuk had never explicitly told him, but Jooheon knew. There was just no way there wasn’t.

It was selfish to think about it, and it didn’t even matter, but nonetheless, Jooheon wondered. A boy. Did he look anything like him? He glanced around the room, subconsciously looking for any happy couple photos, but there were none.

He wouldn’t look like him anyways. Who would do that to themselves?

“I just… don’t know if he’d still want me.” Minhyuk continued, gaze hesitant.

Still want him? How long were him and this guy together for them to already have a crisis? A year, maybe? Or did Minhyuk find someone right after the 7 month period that it took  _them_  to stop talking completely? Maybe that was the reason why Minhyuk’s messages had shortened over the months, the reason why his replies had taken longer and longer to arrive and the reason why he hadn’t had the time to facetime anymore. Must’ve been.

Jooheon still had the 2 short texts screencaped in his phone.

 _‘are we done?’_   one asked.

 _‘yeah’_   the other one answered, 2 days later.

The date on them was from roughly 1 and a half years ago, and until yesterday, he hadn’t replied. It was short. No explanation had followed, because it wasn’t needed. He didn’t ask Changkyun, he didn’t ask Hyungwon. The months after that had flown, just like they had been individually agonizingly long. He recalled staring at the texts many times, just making sure. He remembered crying once or maybe twice, in the lonely moments that came to him in the middle of the night, but besides that, he had been numb about it and too busy, his head filled to the brim with work. Later, when he’d reflected on how slow it had come, he’d realized that he’d been expecting it, more or less. He remembered trying to contact Minhyuk a few times, but there was nothing to talk about. He lived a different life now. They both did. He had nothing to offer. He’d never sent the messages.

Slowly, Minhyuk straightened up and outstretched his hands, palms turned upwards. An invitation.

Apology? Comfort? Jooheon didn’t deserve any of it. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew that this would make it worse, but he shifted closer and then, unvoluntarily and despite everything, suddenly too self-aware of every cell in his body, he wiped his sweaty palms into the fabric of his pants and placed his hands into Minhyuk’s waiting touch.

His hands still felt the same. Or did they? He didn’t know anymore. Even in harsh winter, Minhyuk’s hands were still a touch of the sun. Even after 2 years, his hands were still friendly and large enough to hold everything like he could bear it, even though Jooheon knew better. Minhyuk brushed his thumbs over his knuckles and if Jooheon could at least look him in the eye, he wouldn’t have noticed that the thin scar Minhyuk got on his hand (one November evening when he burned himself making cookies) was still there. Scars did that, of course. They didn’t just disappear. That was normal.

The way Minhyuk touched him felt the same, too. Like he was precious, like Jooheon deserved only the best. Gently for care, tightly for comfort, bordering on reverence in certain moments. It was all the same. Strange, how muscle memory worked. Only the feeling that came from it was different now. Bitterness somewhere at the back of his throat. A dull minor chord struck somewhere deep within his chest. Was that normal too?

It was warm and it hurt. It hurt much more than he’d imagined it would, and suddenly not only was Minhyuk holding his hands, but his heart, still, too.

“Good luck with him.” Jooheon said and he smiled, trying hard to make it comforting and sincere, knowing very well he'd failed miserably.

Somewhere behind Minhyuk, the water was slowly coming to boil.

Jooheon pulled his hands away. “I shouldn’t… I’m gonna go.” He stood up. The kettle clicked.

He was already at the door, coat thrown over one arm and ready to step into the first boot when hands turned him around and pressed on his chest until his back hit the door with a muffled thud. The coat fell to the floor.

Minhyuk was in his face, eyes glistening. “Why are you so dumb?” he asked, lips a thin line and expression crumpled. It has been a while, but Jooheon was sure he’d never seen him this sad.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” he mumbled looking down at the slumped pile that was his coat, and he didn’t know what exactly he was sorry for right now, but in general he’d hoped that Minhyuk had picked up on how he was sorry about everything.

Minhyuk stepped back a bit. “It’s you. There is no one else.”

Something in the air broke, snapped like a sharp pencil tip against paper under too much pressure.

Jooheon shook his head. “No.” he said, but it sounded too hopeful.

When Minhyuk’s hand reached up to card through his hair, Jooheon’s eyes closed on their own and maybe Minhyuk wasn’t the only one who’d stayed the same.

“But I left you,” he choked out, because for some reason breathing was getting more and more difficult with each gentle movement of Minhyuk’s hand.

“You didn’t leave me. You just left. You’d be stupid if you didn’t. It was very important to you and I understand that.” Minhyuk said, calmly, like he’d practiced it. His hand didn’t stop. “I left you later.”

Against his will, against his body screaming for more comfort, Jooheon opened his eyes and Minhyuk was there, waiting like he had always been and Jooheon just couldn’t let him wait anymore. Carefully, he reached to pull Minhyuk’s hand away from him by the wrist only to finally slam their bodies together hard enough to break a rib, because he didn’t care. He didn’t want to think about who left whom anymore, he just wanted to feel.

His arms on and around Minhyuk’s shoulders, chest to chest, it felt overwhelming, it felt crushing and ecstatic all at once. It felt like releasing a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in for months.

“I missed you so much.” Jooheon breathed somewhere into Minhyuk’s neck and he meant it. He’d missed Minhyuk every time he'd thought of Korea, he’d missed Minhyuk every time he'd facetimed with Changkyun, he’d missed him from the moment he'd stepped out of the plane in LA, until now.

Minhyuk’s arms wrapped around his waist and then higher, squeezing tight and it was like things have come full circle, because the hug mirrored the one they shared at the airport 2 years ago almost perfectly. He didn’t sound practiced anymore. “When you said you won’t be coming back for god knows how long I just… I was so sad… but I waited and waited for you to text me the news but then you said you wouldn’t even come home for Christmas and... that was the first time I thought about if letting go wouldn’t make more sense.” he mumbled the last part like he was ashamed of it.

“The tickets were so expensive and I had so much work that I wouldn’t have stayed for long even if I could go—”

“Shhh, I know, I know.” Minhyuk rubbed his back, and his touch was warm and sure like Jooheon had never even left. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry but... I just felt helpless, I didn’t know what to do. It felt like I couldn’t do anything. Texting just wasn’t enough when I didn’t know if you’d ever even come home. You seemed happy there and every time you asked how I was doing, I just thought about how I’m miserable, and not replying for 2 or 3 weeks suddenly felt a lot easier that forging up another lie. So I just… stopped it.” he held Jooheon tighter as if to make up for it.

“I wanted to take it back so many times.” Minhyuk whispered into Jooheon’s hair and the memories of his own countless unsent messages flooded his mind.

“I wasn’t happy.” Jooheon said, and god, he really hadn’t been. It had been depressing. It had been stressful. It had been lonely. Dreams or not, he’d left too much of himself in Korea. “I told you and I even told myself but I wasn’t.”

“That’s why you came home?” Minhyuk asked, and just the sound of his voice was way more reassuring than it should’ve been.

“No, but it helped.” Jooheon sniffled. “They ended the contract without prior notice, I found out last week. So I just… I got really angry. But I was tired of it long ago. It snowballed, so I bought a pricey ticket and came home. It just didn’t work out.”

Minhyuk pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “God, Jooheonie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s… okay. It’s okay now. I thought I’d make it, but it just wasn’t happening. I still ask myself if it would work out if I had stayed and tried more, but… it doesn’t matter anymore. I can make it here. It’s done.” that was Jooheon’s practiced part. He attempted a smile again, but the corners of his lips were heavy, because ‘it’s okay now’ just didn’t cut it. Nothing was okay, because here he was, standing on Minhyuk’s prickly doormat crying like an idiot because he fucked up and they both had to pay for it. And Minhyuk was sad. Because of him. And Minhyuk was even sorry. “I thought you’d moved on.” he said, dropping his head onto Minhyuk’s shoulder, gripping the hem of his shirt, and when Minhyuk didn’t push him off, he made himself smaller, body drawing in on itself. It felt good to be smaller for a while.

When Minhyuk’s hand came up to scratch at the short hair at his nape, Jooheon felt himself melt. “I tried. I pushed myself out of our old apartment… you know, new environment. I changed as many things as I could, but… it just didn’t work.” he said, and then he went quiet for a while. His hand stopped, splayed warm on the skin of Jooheon’s neck and Jooheon could hear him swallow. “I’ve been on 6 dates, but no one was you.”

That really didn’t help. That was the last straw. He really fucked up. “S-six? God, you’re h-hopeless.” Jooheon now full-on sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like he never wanted to let go. And in that moment he didn’t, really.

“Are you roasting me while crying?” Minhyuk laughed, and that helped.

“M-maybe.” Jooheon hiccupped, snot everywhere.

“Will you let me go, so we can take this somewhere else? The tiles are cold.”

“No.” he couldn’t quite explain why he didn’t want to let go, he just knew that he couldn’t. It had to be a dream, a bittersweet dream that was meant to be imprinted onto every nerve of his body and mind before he’d wake up alone on his too expensive and still too uncomfortable mattress in LA.

“My big baby, come on.” Minhyuk wiggled and moved limbs around until Jooheon was clinging to him from the back, arms around his neck as they managed to waddle like penguins towards the bedroom door.

Minhyuk’s hand hesitated on the door handle. “You know, 80 degrees is ideal for green tea anyways.”

“Fuck tea.” Jooheon whined, nuzzling closer, and Minhyuk laughed, opened the door and they fell into the small bedroom and onto a big bed.

“How come you’re not crying?” Jooheon asked between sobs somewhere into the duvet, because that was where he faceplanted, finally letting go of Minhyuk. He still had trouble believing that this was real life and so he laid there, face wet and disgusting and even the fucking detergent Minhyuk used on the bedding was still the same.

“I’ve had my share over the months.” Minhyuk said, head propped up on one elbow. Liar. His eyes were way too sparkly.

Jooheon sat up. He wanted to bawl more, and he did when he saw that the happy couple photo was on the nightstand all along and the images of Minhyuk in bed, on the couch, at work, wherever, alone, crying his eyes out occupied his mind like a cliché drama montage. “I’m so s-sorry I left. I’m sorry I-I’m s—”

Minhyuk sat up too and grabbed his face. “Listen. I’ve heard this song before, 2 years ago and now again. It’s getting old, but I’ll interpret it as in you still want me.”

Jooheon looked at him because he had nowhere else to look when Minhyuk’s huge hands held his head in place and even through the tears in his eyes, Minhyuk was so pretty it wasn’t fair.

“I d-do.” he cried, like all of the tears that had collected somewhere in him over the last year or so wanted to get out all at once.

“Then how about this—“ hands still on Jooheon’s face, long fingers slotting around his ears, Minhyuk kissed him deep and salty, and it felt like the sunflowers in the living room had looked.

New and a bit sloppy, but somehow way too familiar.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is gross im sorreh


End file.
